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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755469">do you feel my love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeronicmuch/pseuds/eyeronicmuch'>eyeronicmuch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Roommates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:27:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755469</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeronicmuch/pseuds/eyeronicmuch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Taeyong always took the whole soulmate and enemy thing with a grain of salt, until Yuta came into the picture.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>182</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>do you feel my love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is the spin off to can you feel my heartbeat, but can be read as a stand alone! </p>
<p>for vee, my number 1 supporter, ilysm</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taeyong always took the whole soulmate and enemy thing with a grain of salt. He never understood the whole concept in its entirety: what‘s the point of knowing who you’re supposed to love and hate? What if the people change? His emotions change? It’s all very broad and abstract, really. </p>
<p>Unlike Doyoung, Taeyong never gave the name on his right wrist much thought. To him currently, it’s just a handwritten tattoo of his supposed enemy's name, holding no weight or meaning. He knows him and Mr. Park don’t get along, but it doesn’t mean Taeyong should hate him just because the man doesn’t agree with the colour palettes Taeyong uses for his fine arts course. </p>
<p>The wrist of his soulmate remains empty for many years and Taeyong likes it that way. In a sense, it’s a bit calming. There are no expectations to uphold, no pressure or anything. Taeyong would be lying if he says he doesn’t want to know who his soulmate is per se, but he isn’t dying of curiosity. Right now, he has a huge art project due, and soulmates are the least of his worries. </p>
<p>“Hey man, you good?” Yuta asks, sitting next to him in the library. “I got you a coffee.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Taeyong answers, taking the hot cup from Yuta’s hands with a tired smile. Taeyong has dark circles under his eyes as a result of excessive staring into a computer screen for his research of contemporary artists, a sketchbook on top of the keyboard filled with his notes. Truthfully, there’s more writing in it than there is drawing. </p>
<p>Yuta gives him a pat on the back. He’s still wearing his football uniform, a sports bag next to his feet. “No problem.” He wears a permanent grin on his face, a little too bright for Taeyong’s gloom, a little too blinding. </p>
<p>“Practice tonight?” Taeyong asks, deciding that his brain is too fried for any more research. Trying to seek out any information about contemporary 21st century artists will be the death of him, he swears on it. He cracks his knuckles, rolls back his head to get rid of the stiffness in his neck and shoulder muscles; it’s not very effective. </p>
<p>“Yeah, we’ve got a big game coming up,” Yuta explains, “so I’ve got to give it my all.”</p>
<p>“You got this,” Taeyong says as an encouragement. It goes beyond just his practices, but also for his studies and nearing midterms. It’s a bit amazing to Taeyong how Yuta manages to juggle academics on top of being a football captain of their university team almost without breaking a sweat. Taeyong himself is drowning, and he only has courses four times a week. </p>
<p>“You, too,” Yuta smiles, glowing from the sunlight from the library’s huge panel windows. It hits him all in the right places.  </p>
<p>He and Yuta started rooming from the start of the first year and they’ve gotten pretty close over the months. From an outsider's perspective, they make quite the unlikely pair, an artist and an athlete, and Taeyong can understand that, but as it turns out he and Yuta have a lot in common despite being almost on the opposite sides of the major spectrum. </p>
<p>They share the same likeness for TV shows and literature and music. It’s as good as it gets with a roommate, Taeyong thinks. Even generally, Yuta’s a great listener, he’s nice to talk to. Taeyong’s too chatty for his own good but Yuta never interrupts him and unlike Doyoung, who pretends to listen to Taeyong’s whines with a stoic expression, Yuta actually empathises and relates. </p>
<p>“I’ve got to go now, I’ll be back by eight at most,” Yuta says, standing up and heaving his huge sports bag off the floor. </p>
<p>“Alright,” Taeyong says with a wave, “see you then.” </p>
<p>He watches Yuta walk out and then finally takes a sip of the coffee he was given. It’s a caramel latte with whipped cream, just as he likes. Taeyong can’t control the smile that tugs at his lips at that. Yuta’s pretty attentive; Taeyong thinks he’s only mentioned he likes this type of latte once in a passing conversation and he’d never thought Yuta would remember. He puts the cup down and exercises his wrist to prepare and write more notes. He’s almost done, but he’s reluctant to finish the work and exit the library, because back in their apartment an empty canvas awaits him, and Taeyong is already too tired to paint anything, even though he has to and putting his project off even more will only bite him in the ass later on. </p>
<p>He blames his university for this. Taeyong’s not a procrastinator at the core, he likes to do things on time and even before the deadline, to spare him the anxiety. It’s calmer this way, it makes Taeyong feel like he’s in control of his workload and his time management. But alas, the assignments and projects only stack upon each other, and a year and a half later Taeyong doesn’t have the luxury to finish his assignments early anymore. He barely gets them done on time. </p>
<p>If Taeyong had known what he was signing up for back when he was in high school and with hopes of being an artist, he would have reconsidered. It’s not fun and games, never were. His days and nights are spent studying and writing and drawing and stressing. It’s not uncommon that he finds himself pulling all-nighters. Today, it seems, will be one of those unlucky days. Taeyong sighs and finishes up his notes as fast as he can. </p>
<p>He stuffs his huge sketchbook into his backpack and takes the bus to his dorm. He cooks dinner for him and Yuta both, covers the full plate with plastic wrap and then locks himself up in his room and begins working on his sketchbook again. By the time Taeyong glues his eyes off it, he notices it’s dark outside and Yuta has come back, judging by the footsteps and sounds of shuffling in the apartment. </p>
<p>It’s eleven in the evening. Taeyong grimaces. He heads to the kitchen for a cup of water and a snack and he sees Yuta there, eating an apple, the plate Taeyong set up for him already empty and rinsed.</p>
<p>“Hey again,” he says. “Working?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Taeyong sighs. “I’m nearly done with the sketchbook. But I have to finish the painting by today, I think I’ll pull an all-nighter.”</p>
<p>“How close are you to finishing it?”</p>
<p>“I haven’t even begun,” Taeyong huffs out a laugh. “It’s a huge project, too.”</p>
<p>Yuta frowns a little. “That’s no good. Is it due soon?”</p>
<p>“Tomorrow,” Taeyong says. “I have a class at ten.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” Yuta says. “Want some company? I don’t have classes tomorrow, so I don’t mind staying up. It’s more fun with two.”</p>
<p>Taeyong smiles. Yuta‘s always like this, helping him even though he doesn’t need to. Taeyong wouldn’t say they’re the best of friends, but it’s something close to that. They’re one deep conversation away from laying a foundation for an invincible friendship, Taeyong thinks, although he also doesn’t agree that all friendships need to be deep and vulnerable. With Yuta it’s easy so far, and Taeyong doesn’t want to change that. He’s a breath of fresh air, different from the people Taeyong has seen and been friends with, easy to get along with. </p>
<p>Taeyong truthfully likes the simplicity of their dynamics. There are no complications of their hellos in the mornings before classes and banter during the free time they spend together. Taeyong has never gotten along with anyone this well nearly right off the bat, for better or worse.</p>
<p>“I would like that, yes,” he says.</p>
<p>Taeyong doesn’t stay up the entire night, but he finishes at around five in the morning. He tells Yuta his concept of his painting, as if waiting for validation because he always craves for it whether we wants to or not, and when he gets it in the form of Yuta’s shining eyes and slightly parted lips from awe he starts painting. </p>
<p>Usually, Taeyong listens to music while he works. This time, he listens to Yuta talk. He admits, Yuta has a nice voice. He has a lot to say. He’s interesting to listen to. He switches easily back and forth between whatever he’s talking about and making comments on Taeyong’s canvas. He’s the best type of company Taeyong could ever want in stressful situations like these, his lulling voice keeping his anxiety at bay. It’s comforting in the way Taeyong didn’t think it would ever be, but he’s really glad it is. </p>
<p>A part of Taeyong wonders just why is Yuta so nice. He has a lot on his plate. He must be exhausted from today’s practice, Taeyong can tell from the way he’s starting to yawn and the purple under his eyes, the way his eyelids are closing every five minutes and he struggles to stay awake in the middle of the night, and yet Taeyong selfishly agreed for Yuta keep him company. Taeyong mixes his paints and thinks of a way to repay Yuta somehow.</p>
<p>“I should somehow thank you for this,” Taeyong says when he’s done, glancing at Yuta then back at the canvas. It’s not his best work but it’s five in the morning and he doesn’t give a single fuck anymore. </p>
<p>“No need,” Yuta waves him off. “I’m always glad to help a friend.”</p>
<p>Taeyong says, “I insist. Staying up until dawn is like, a lot, even for friends. Is there anything you’d like?”</p>
<p>Yuta pauses to think for a moment, “You could take me to this one cafe downtown. I heard they have great desserts.”</p>
<p>“That’s it?” Taeyong cocks a brow. </p>
<p>“Yeah?” Yuta laughs.</p>
<p>“I didn’t label you for someone who has a sweet tooth,” Taeyong says, smiling.</p>
<p>“There are many things you don’t know about me, but we could change that,” Yuta suggests. He really does look on the verge of sleep now even if he desperately tries not to show it.</p>
<p>“Sounds like a good idea,” Taeyong says. “When are you free?” It’s not like Taeyong doesn’t have Yuta’s schedule memorised, but sometimes Yuta’s practice timetable is all over the place, moreover Yuta’s a friendly person and there’s always someone who wants to hang out with him. Now that he thinks about it, they haven’t gone out together out of the apartment together much. </p>
<p>“During the weekends or after practice mostly,” Yuta says. </p>
<p>“Sure thing,” Taeyong says. “When we both are free we can go whenever then.”</p>
<p>Yuta gives him a nod. Taeyong thanks him for staying by his side again and after Yuta retires to his room Taeyong passes out cold on his bed. He miraculously doesn’t sleep through the alarm. Although groggy and still exhausted, Taeyong drags himself out of bed to the bathroom to get ready. Half of him wants to check up on Yuta but the other half doesn’t want to disturb his sleep.</p>
<p>Their rooms are located next to each other with a common open space living room and kitchen. Their dorm isn’t that small but it’s not that big either, but size was never much of a concern for Taeyong who spends most of his time in his room. As long as his room has space, he’s good. Taeyong’s portfolio is heavy so Taeyong drags it across the floor as quietly as possible. He makes himself a tea and nothing else, and after making sure that he’s not late he cleans up quickly and takes the bus. </p>
<p>On the way to his lecture hall he runs into Jaehyun. Jaehyun waves at him and offers to carry his portfolio for him. </p>
<p>“Thanks, man,” Taeyong sighs, “this stuff is so heavy. What’s the point of having an A1 portfolio, honestly.”</p>
<p>“It’s no problem,” Jaehyun smiles at him, dimples in his cheeks. He’s a polite kid, Taeyong thinks to himself. He doesn’t know why Doyoung dislikes him so much, it doesn’t make sense. </p>
<p>By Doyoung’s claims, Jaehyun is his enemy, but if that’s the case then there’s no reason for Jaehyun to wonder about Doyoung’s well-being whenever he and Taeyong cross paths. Maybe the enemy thing isn’t reciprocated. </p>
<p>While walking, Taeyong notices the name written on the inside of Jaehyun’s left wrist. Oh. Now that changes things. Taeyong always had his suspicions that Jaehyun always liked Doyoung more than just a childhood friend, but he never pried into their quite complicated relationship. When they reach his lecture hall, Jaehyun hands him his portfolio back. Taeyong thanks him again and Jaehyun’s dimples deepen. He doesn’t understand why Doyoung takes fate so seriously. He thinks if he found out who his soulmate was, he would ignore it just like how he ignores Mr. Park’s name on his other wrist. </p>
<p>Taeyong submits his portfolio and sketchbook and writes down his submission time on a piece of paper next to his name. He’s free for the rest of the day which is the only upside to these assessments, so he simply goes back to his dorm. </p>
<p>Yuta’s already up by the time Taeyong arrives, even though it’s not even twelve.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Taeyong says, “Good morning.”</p>
<p>“Morning,” Yuta replies from the couch. He’s not doing anything in particular, so Taeyong wonders why he’s awake. “How did everything go?”</p>
<p>“I submitted everything on time, so hopefully well. Why aren’t you sleeping?”  </p>
<p>Yuta shrugs. “I was just reading about soulmates.”</p>
<p>“Soulmates? Why?”</p>
<p>“They say the stronger your feelings are for someone the darker your soulmate mark is.”</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s quite interesting,” Taeyong comments.</p>
<p>“Do you have a soulmate?” Yuta then asks. He puts his palm on his cheek, eyes curious and wide.</p>
<p>“No,” Taeyong shakes his head. “Do you?”</p>
<p>“I have for a while now,” Yuta says, “the mark was rather faint these months but after I woke today up I noticed it has gotten darker.”</p>
<p>“Is that so?” Taeyong asks. “How peculiar.”</p>
<p>“Right?” Yuta says. “I didn’t think things would develop so fast.”</p>
<p>Truthfully Taeyong doesn’t know how to reply. He wants to ask whose name is on Yuta’s wrist, but also feels like it isn’t his place to. “I hope everything will turn out well between you two.” </p>
<p>Yuta glances at him, then at his hand. “Yeah, me too.”</p>
<p>Taeyong gives him a timid smile. “I’ll go take a nap now. I’m so tired, you have no idea.”</p>
<p>“Go ahead,” Yuta encourages him kindly. “Rest well.”</p>
<p>Taeyong makes small talk for a couple more minutes and then retreats to his room. His bed sheets are unmade since morning and everything smells like paint but it’s alright. Taeyong opens the window and pulls the blinds down and then passes out for a couple of hours, thinking about fate and all of its subjectiveness. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Taeyong takes his words back. He stares at his assessment results with a frown on his face. Perhaps fate didn’t mess with him after all, considering Mr. Park only gave him a pass. Not even a merit. It’s like a slap to his face, a blow to his expectations and self worth. Oh how Taeyong is starting to hate his bald head. </p>
<p>“So, how is it?” Doyoung asks him. They’re situated in a cafe not far from campus. It’s been two weeks since the assessment and the results have been emailed back. Taeyong decided to pull Doyoung over to his side for moral support as he opened his laptop and prayed for the best.</p>
<p>“I didn’t fail,” Taeyong says.</p>
<p>“That’s good though, right?”</p>
<p>“Well. yeah, but not good enough.” Taeyong closes his laptop and orders another dessert. He’d expected at least a merit for his hard work. “I can’t believe this. He said my performance is worse than last semester’s. I don’t get it,” Taeyong says, “first he says I need to write more for research then he says I write too much. Make it make sense.”</p>
<p>Doyoung pats his back. “It’s okay, it’s over now.”</p>
<p>“I suppose so,” Taeyong sighs, rubbing at his temples. A headache is brewing from all the anxiety and disappointment he’s experienced but he tries to push it to the back of his mind.</p>
<p>“Maybe talk to him? You both obviously have miscommunication going on. Your tutor has no right to lower your grade for personal dislikes.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. I think I will. Maybe I’ll transfer, or drop out, who knows. Bet Mr. Park would like that.”</p>
<p>“Taeyong,” Doyoung frowns. “You should calm down. No stupid lecturer is worth it.”</p>
<p>“I know, it just– pisses me off. Quite funny of him to be my enemy literally and I only feel the weight of it now.”</p>
<p>Doyoung shrugs, “Better late than never.”</p>
<p>“I suppose I’ve misjudged you when I thought you were being a tad bit too irrational for taking this too seriously. I guess the names on our wrists do make sense.”</p>
<p>Doyoung’s eyes widen, “You’ve what now?”</p>
<p>Taeyong purses his lips. “I mean, I’m not wrong.”</p>
<p>“I don’t take it too seriously,” Doyoung says confidently. Then, more hesitantly, “Do I?”</p>
<p>“Jaehyun’s not a bad guy,” Taeyong says.</p>
<p>“He’s given me plenty reasons to think so,” Doyoung replies casually, bringing a mug of coffee to his lips. It’s a useless conversation. No matter how much Taeyong tries to help Doyoung open his eyes, it never works. He was persistence at first, but now he stopped trying. Only occasionally does he comment about Jaehyun here and then; at least Doyoung doesn't grimace at the mention of his name anymore. Baby steps. “Either way,” Doyoung says, “your phone is ringing.” </p>
<p>Taeyong glances at his phone on the table and at the caller ID. </p>
<p>“Hey,” Yuta says from the other end of the line. “Are you free right now?”</p>
<p>“Almost,” Taeyong replies. “What’s up?”</p>
<p>“The date for our match was decided today. I just found out and couldn’t wait to tell you in person so I’m calling you and inviting you right now. You’ll come, right?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Taeyong says. The same way Yuta stays up all night to help Taeyong paint Taeyong attends Yuta’s matches. He doesn’t understand football just exactly like Yuta doesn’t understand art, however that’s how they work together. </p>
<p>There’s a hint of a smile in Yuta’s voice, evident and obvious. It’s the excitement he can’t hold in whenever he shares the things he likes with Taeyong that Taeyong can’t help but grin at. </p>
<p>Taeyong ends the call and after a few more sentences. </p>
<p>“Lover boy?” Doyoung asks, amused.</p>
<p>“Shut up.” </p>
<p>Doyoung pinches his cheek. “Never thought this day would come.”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing like that, it’s just my roommate.” </p>
<p>“Yuta, right?” Doyoung asks. “He’s nice.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Taeyong says. “He is.”</p>
<p>Doyoung doesn’t question him anymore. They switch the topic to academics and by sunset call it a day. Taeyong walks back to the dorms with his head swimming in thoughts, laptop case over his shoulder. </p>
<p>Yuta’s home, in his room. Taeyong doesn’t notify him of his return and heads straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth as he toes off his shoes. </p>
<p>He sees his mocking passing grade behind his eyelids as he settles for sleep but decides that things could’ve been worse.</p>
<p>Yuta’s match is in a weeks’ time. </p>
<p>Taeyong arrives just in time at the football field and sits a few rows up. It’s not the first time he’s attended a football match but he always feels awkward because he comes alone. Earlier in the morning he wished Yuta the best of luck and Yuta asked him to wait by the locker room after the game so they could go back together. Taeyong simply agreed and Yuta told him he’ll be looking forward to seeing him in the crowd.</p>
<p>In the field, Yuta shines. He has both an authoritative and a carefree aura around him as he talks to his team about something. Their opponents are from a rival college and honestly, it’s not a serious match at all, but Yuta always treats it like one. Once the game starts, the easy smile on his face turns a little more composed. </p>
<p>They win, quite obviously. Yuta’s a good team captain, he’s a good football player. In all honesty, there are many things he’s good at. It may be talent, it may be the hard work. It may be both. Taeyong claps as he sees Yuta get tackled into a team hug, and it might be a trick of the mind, but Yuta catches his gaze at some point and smiles at him. </p>
<p>Yuta’s alone in the locker room when Taeyong gets there. He’s out of his uniform but looks like he just got out of the shower, his hair still a little damp. </p>
<p>“Congratulations,” Taeyong tells him as he sees Yuta put on sweat wristbands over his wrists. </p>
<p>Yuta grins and extends his arms wide. Taeyong steps into a hug. Yuta’s embraces are strong and reassuring. Taeyong can feel happiness radiate off him, and in a moment of excitement Yuta lifts him off his feet and spins him around mid-hug. </p>
<p>“I honestly didn’t think we’d win,” Yuta says when he puts Taeyong down. </p>
<p>“You underestimate yourself too much,” Taeyong says. Yuta’s arms are still around him, now settled on his hips, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. </p>
<p>“Maybe so.” Yuta notices Taeyong glance at his hands and retreats them. </p>
<p>“Will you guys celebrate?” Taeyong asks. </p>
<p>“Nah, not me. The guys will get wasted and I’ll be the token sober friend, and I don’t want that,” Yuta laughs.</p>
<p>“The woes of being a captain,” Taeyong says.</p>
<p>“Unfortunately,” Yuta sighs. “You gotta be the responsible one all the time. So yeah, I’d rather spend the evening with you.” </p>
<p>“We can pass by a bakery and get a cake,” Taeyong suggests. </p>
<p>“You still promised to take me downtown,” Yuta smiles.</p>
<p>“We can go now, it’s not too late.” </p>
<p>“Let’s.”</p>
<p>The busride downtown is peaceful. Yuta sits by the window and gazes out of it, his huge sports bag on his lap. It’s October, but it’s not too cold by the lake. </p>
<p>The cafe is situated a road away from it. The outside terrace is still open so Taeyong and Yuta decide to sit there. The waitress hands them menus and leaves them be. </p>
<p>“The amount of desserts here, god,” Yuta says, flipping through the menu, “I want to order them all.”</p>
<p>Taeyong laughs. “Be my guest. I’ll pay.” </p>
<p>Yuta narrows his eyes but his voice is playful. “You have a second to back out because I <i>will</i> order half the menu here.”</p>
<p>Taeyong rests his cheek on his palm, “If you wish. I owe you that much, for the time to stayed up with me for the assessment.”</p>
<p>Yuta’s expression slips into a smile. “How did that go, by the way? I don’t remember if I’ve asked.”</p>
<p>“Eh,” Taeyong says. “Not too bad. Anything you want to drink?”</p>
<p>“The sangrias here are very good. Martinis too.”</p>
<p>“So you did want to celebrate your win with a drink.”</p>
<p>Yuta grins. “Anything piqued your interest?”</p>
<p>Taeyong hums, “The raspberry kiwi one looks good.”</p>
<p>“Right?”</p>
<p>“A bit too expensive though.”</p>
<p>“We can get half a liter then,” Yuta suggests. </p>
<p>“Yeah, sure.” They relay their orders over to the waitress and chat while waiting for their desserts. The air by the lake is chilly and very fresh, and the sun is starting to set beautifully. </p>
<p>The sangria is indeed very good. Taeyong can tell it’s mixed with something sweet but strong, and hopes he won’t be too buzzed by the time they drink all of it. Yuta looks excited to eat his creme brûlée, ice cream and mango cheesecake. He really did go all out it seems.</p>
<p>Taeyong chuckles, “Won’t your stomach explode?”</p>
<p>“Desserts go to the heart,” Yuta states.</p>
<p>“Don’t get a heart attack then, please. Doyoung’s the medical student here, not me.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, I’ve done worse,” Yuta says. “Here. try the cheesecake.”</p>
<p>It’s fun to know an athlete like Yuta has a huge sweet tooth. Yuta never conforms to any labels or stereotypes, and it only makes Taeyong want to know more about him, on a deeper level. Taeyong briefly wonders what music Yuta listens to before going to bed, what type of weather does he like, what makes him happy, what makes him sad.</p>
<p>He wonders what it would be like to have late night talks about everything and nothing with him, what would be of them if they crossed the line of ‘easy’ and became more complicated. The thoughts passes as fast as it comes. Taeyong watches Yuta eat his ice cream and smiles. </p>
<p>Truthfully, Taeyong doesn’t mind emptying his wallet if it means Yuta could keep the stars in his wide eyes, whatever that means. Taeyong tries to not dwell on it too much.</p>
<p>“Do you want to walk around the lake?” he suggests.</p>
<p>“Sure,” Yuta says. “My bag might ruin the mood though.”</p>
<p>Taeyong laughs. “That’s okay,”</p>
<p>It’s much windier by the edge of the lake. Taeyong spots ducks rest on the rocks by the water. The sky is turning pink and purple and it all reflects in the lake in a breaktaking way. It’s a rare occasion for sunsets to be this colourful in autumn, and Taeyong thinks it’s a good coincidence. </p>
<p>Yuta stands close to him, but his gaze is somewhere far away. He looks serene, cheeks flushed a little from the alcohol and the cold. </p>
<p>Taeyong’s left wrist itches, but he pays it no mind. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Midterms come and go, and to celebrate them finishing Yuta rents out a place and hosts a party. The place is located in one of the dorms, it’s a large area with several rooms with games and a kitchen. It’s used precisely by students who wish to party, and Yuta rents is precisely because it’s nearing Halloween and he loves costume parties.</p>
<p>“Is this really necessary?” Taeyong asks about the costumes. “I look ridiculous.”</p>
<p>“Duh,” Yuta says, “It’s all for the aesthetic, the authenticity.”</p>
<p>“We don’t even celebrate Halloween here.”</p>
<p>“Who cares? It’s a fun holiday.”</p>
<p>Taeyong draws a lightning symbol on his forehead with an eyeliner pencil his sister gave him and thinks it looks good enough to pass as Harry Potter. He conveniently has a pair of round-framed glasses as well. Yuta’s the more ridiculous one out of the two of them, dressed as a cheap Frankenstein with fake screws over the side of his neck. Taeyong prays Doyoung won’t comment on them. If anything, he’s the one who’s more likely to show up without a costume out of all the people Yuta has invited. </p>
<p>The party formally starts at seven, but Taeyong and Yuta head over earlier to prepare all of the food and drinks. Everyone has chipped in a little so the price isn’t much of an issue. Taeyong heats the pizza and Yuta stacks the alcohol in the fridge. Seems like he’s very well intent on getting drunk.</p>
<p>By half past eight, it’s in full swing. Their friends and acquaintances flood the venue and Taeyong turns up the music so it’s loud and almost deafening. It tunes down the chattering this way. The rented space of the party venue isn’t small, but many people have showed up. Taeyong has to meander his way through bodies to get to the kitchen.</p>
<p>He pours himself a beer and once he looks back Doyoung’s there, having the audacity to criticise how Taeyong and Yuta look when he himself is in a tacky orange turtleneck, winning the non-existent ridiculous outfit award of the evening. Taeyong gives him a party hat for that.</p>
<p>Taeyong pours Yuta some alcohol too. They stand by the counters and watch the party unfold, shoulders almost touching. With each sip he feels Yuta relax beside him, the pent up tension from the midterms leaving his shoulders.</p>
<p>Exams were rough. Taeyong didn’t see much of Yuta, who was either holed up in the library or in his room cramming theory day after day. Taeyong had it a bit easier, only having art history as his exam. Yuta once mentioned that he dreamt to drink and drink after midterms were over to let the stress go, and that’s what he’s doing right now. Beer after beer, cheeks redder and redder as the evening goes on. </p>
<p>Yuta mentioned to Doyoung that Taeyong would take care of him, and even if Taeyong said no promises he knows when to make Yuta stop. He takes away his plastic cup and Yuta honest to god whines at that. He tries to reach for it but Taeyong holds it further away, so Yuta ends up pressed up over Taeyong’s side, his lips almost touching Taeyong’s neck.</p>
<p>“You’re getting drunk,” Taeyong points out. He finds it hard to breathe for whatever reason. </p>
<p>“That’s the whole point,” Yuta says, quietly. He’s still functioning well, which is a good sign. Not staggering or anything. He has good tolerance, but that tolerance goes down the drain once the alcohol kicks in. It’s only a matter of time. </p>
<p>“Drink water first,” Taeyong tells him. “Stay hydrated.”</p>
<p>Yuta complies, finally moving away. He finds a bottle of water but no extra cup. “Guess I’ll stay dehydrated then,” he says. </p>
<p>The alcohol must be kicking in already. “Take mine,” Taeyong says. “I didn’t drink from this cup yet.”</p>
<p>Yuta’s hands curl around his for a second in between the exchange. “Thanks. Are you not drinking?”</p>
<p>“Maybe later. Someone has to be the responsible one here.”</p>
<p>Yuta gives him a smile and then gulps the water in one go, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His lips are wet when he says, “Join the fun.” </p>
<p>His football teammates take Yuta away for a while, so Taeyong decides to look around for Doyoung but finds him gone. He sighs and wishes he had the guts to make more friends back in his first year. In the meantime he makes small talk with Johnny from the basketball team and only after Yuta glues himself to Taeyong’s side does Taeyong excuse himself.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Taeyong says to Johnny, “Yuta’s had a bit too much.”</p>
<p>“No worries,” Johnny says politely. Taeyong knows of Johnny through Jaehyun, them being teammates, although this is the first time they’ve spoken one on one. Johnny’s very amiable, Taeyong can say that much judging by how he doesn’t feel uncomfortable talking to practically a stranger. “Do you need help with him?”</p>
<p>Taeyong shakes his head. “It’s alright. He’ll sober up by the time the party dies.” Then Taeyong drags Yuta by the collar and sits him down on an empty couch in another room, devoid of the crowd. The music is a bit quieter here, the thumping of the bass much more tolerable.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” Taeyong asks. He gives Yuta more water.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Yuta says. “I’m really fucking good.”</p>
<p>Taeyong laughs. “Well that’s certainly good to hear. I assume you’re not stressed anymore?”</p>
<p>Yuta takes a while to answer, so Taeyong pats his cheek to get him to say something. It’s comes off a surprise when Yuta holds his wrist as he shakes his head. “You’re so nice, Taeyong.”</p>
<p>Taeyong feels himself heat up. “I, uh, get that a lot.”</p>
<p>“No, really,” Yuta says. “You’re really nice. A very good friend.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Taeyong says weakly. Drunk Yuta is unpredictable, so he doesn’t know where the honesty is coming from. </p>
<p>Yuta then grips his wrist harder and Taeyong doesn’t understand what’s going on until he feels wetness under his palm. “I don’t know what to do,” Yuta says.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Taeyong asks, concerned. “Are you okay?” He sits on the couch, almost hovering over Yuta. Yuta has mentioned he’s a crybaby type of drunk most of the time, but Taeyong has never witnessed him cry first hand, ever. He’s at a loss. </p>
<p>Yuta lolls his head back to the couch pillow and shuts his eyes. Taeyong can’t help but reach out to wipe the tears away from his face. He’s never seen Yuta like this, open and vulnerable, even if he’s drunk. They’ve never had such a serious atmosphere surrounding them, something so intimate and deep, and it makes Taeyong scared.</p>
<p>“Yuta,” Taeyong says, almost shaking with worry. “What’s going on?”</p>
<p>Yuta opens his eyes and takes a deep deep sigh. “I really don’t know what to do,” he says, “if you continue being so nice I might just fall in love with you,”</p>
<p>Taeyong’s breath hitches. “Oh.”</p>
<p>“Just oh?” Yuta blinks from under his eyelashes, looking attractive despite the dim light and his not sober state. </p>
<p>“I don’t know what to say.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to say anything I guess,” Yuta says. “I just had to let it out.”</p>
<p>“You’re drunk.”</p>
<p>“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” Yuta says in an attempt to lift the tension.</p>
<p>Taeyong laughs, but it comes out awkward. His ears are ringing and he feels more drunk than Yuta actually is. From the loud music, from Yuta’s confession; everything. It’s overwhelming. </p>
<p>Taeyong’s first instinct is to run. Somewhere far and as fast as possible so he can breathe, but he can’t leave Yuta drunk alone here, and he can’t leave him hanging either. Fortunately, Yuta isn’t expecting Taeyong to say anything, so he just bares his left wrist. </p>
<p>“Look at this,” he says. It’s dark in the room, but not dark enough for Taeyong to not see whose name is written on Yuta’s hand. </p>
<p>“Yuta…”</p>
<p>“Look at how dark the mark is,” Yuta points with his free hand. He has a small smile on his face.  </p>
<p>Taeyong recalls a conversation of theirs when Yuta said soulmate marks change their opacity depending on feelings of the person towards their soulmate or enemy. In a sense, they are simply a reflection. Taeyong bites on the inside of his cheek at the memory. Judging by how nearly pitch black Yuta’s mark is, Yuta’s far more gone than how he claims to be. </p>
<p>Taeyong’s head is definitely ringing now. In retrospect, he’s both stupid and smart for not saying anything when Yuta mentioned his soulmate mark faintly appeared. If Taeyong had known he was Yuta’s soulmate any day sooner than today, he would’ve not known what to do with himself. Technically, he doesn’t know what to do now either, but at least he feels like the ground under him won’t crumble at any second. It makes sense. It honestly makes sense. </p>
<p>Taeyong looks at Yuta’s wrist, traces the words with his fingertips. Yuta’s breathing is slow next to him, as if he’s about to fall asleep any moment. A part of Taeyong hopes he would. Hopes he would fall asleep and forget they had this conversation, because as much as Taeyong wants to say something, anything, his own left wrist is still empty of a name. </p>
<p>Taeyong takes soulmate marks with a grain of salt, yes, but if any other name than Yuta’s would appear on his hand he thinks he would lose his actual mind. He can accept it now, after months of repressing any non-platonic thoughts he had about Yuta in hopes of not ruining their friendship. He’s always seen Yuta in a different light, subconsciously or not. </p>
<p>He feels Yuta rest his head on his shoulder. His touch is warm, burning even. He takes Taeyong’s hand and fits it in between his palm, intertwines their fingers together.</p>
<p>“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Yuta breathes out. Despite the booming music coming from the other room and the quietness of his voice, Taeyong hears him loud and clear.</p>
<p>Taeyong doesn’t shake Yuta off. He sits in the low lighting on an old couch in a Harry Potter costume and counts to ten. He feels calmer and more anxious with each exhale. </p>
<p>He doesn’t know how how long he sits there. When he turns to Yuta, he notices his eyes are closed. Must have drifted off. Taeyong shakes him lightly. </p>
<p>“Yuta,” Taeyong whispers.</p>
<p>“Hm?” Yuta’s voice is low. </p>
<p>“Let’s go back home.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Yuta says. He blinks several times and tries to stand up, wobbling a bit. Taeyong places a hand on his back to not let him fall. Yuta doesn’t comment on it, probably too tired. </p>
<p>The party is still ongoing by the time they leave the room. Although it’s almost midnight and it’s relatively not that late, Taeyong feels exhausted and the crampedness makes his heart beat twice as fast against his ribcage. He quickly darts to a neighbouring room and gets his and Yuta’s coats and then helps Yuta dress up. </p>
<p>Yuta remains quiet, and that’s what worries Taeyong the most. Yuta is almost never like this, wordless and soundless.</p>
<p>Taeyong says goodbye to his acquaintances and drags Yuta outside. He checks his phone for the bus timetable and frowns when he finds out that the nearest bus will only come in a while. At the time Yuta remains quiet by his side. </p>
<p>Taeyong wonders what he’s thinking of. Is he just tired, or is he reluctant to talk to Taeyong because he thinks Taeyong indirectly rejected him? Is he just drunk or has he sobered up enough already and regrets saying anything to Taeyong? The possibilities are endless. </p>
<p>“Yuta, say something,” Taeyong says, almost too urgent for his own liking.</p>
<p>Yuta snaps out of it. The cold autumn air clears his mind a bit. He turns his head and looks at Taeyong. Taeyong notices his eyes reflect the street lights like stars. </p>
<p>“Taeyong, do you like me?”</p>
<p>It’s the most simple and most difficult question Taeyong has ever heard. </p>
<p>“I don’t have a name on my left wrist,” Taeyong says quietly. “I don’t know who my soulmate soulmate is yet.”</p>
<p>“Does that matter?” Yuta asks. “You don’t care about these things.”</p>
<p>“You’re right,” Taeyong laughs. “I don’t.”</p>
<p>It starts raining out of the blue. First, it’s a couple of raindrops. Then, it’s a downpour. Yuta and Taeyong run under the roof of the bus stop, and it’s almost a comical situation if not for the tension they had prior to the rain. It dissipates, however, with each pitter patter against the pavement. Taeyong just knows his sneakers will get wet. </p>
<p>“Do you think it’ll thunderstorm?” Yuta asks. He has his hands in his coat pockets and a hood thrown over his head. </p>
<p>“It might,” Taeyong replies. “Are you scared?”</p>
<p>“Not at all. I love this type of weather.”</p>
<p>“As do I,” Taeyong smiles. </p>
<p>The bus ride back isn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Taeyong fiddles with his fingers in thought. There are many things he wants to ask, wants to say, but currently the inside of his mind is like white noise. </p>
<p>Yuta almost trips up the stairs to their apartment and Taeyong reaches out to balance him. He feels Yuta stiffen a little under his touch but says nothing. Once in the dorm, he helps Yuta take off his coat and shoes, then drags him to the bathroom and seats him on lid of the toilet seat to take off his makeup. Yuta doesn’t protest. </p>
<p>He watches Taeyong dip the cotton pad in the makeup removal liquid. Taeyong then gently presses the pad against Yuta’s face and Yuta closes his eyes. Taeyong traces it over Yuta’s eyelids, under his eyes. Thankfully Yuta didn’t smear his face in green paint but he did give himself green eyeshadow. </p>
<p>Taeyong tilts Yuta’s chin up a little with his left hand. He hopes his touch isn’t too cold. He tries not to blush at how close they’re to each other but Yuta’s eyes are closed so it’s bearable enough. </p>
<p>“You shouldn’t have drunk so much,” Taeyong murmurs.</p>
<p>“If I were sober I wouldn’t have had the guts to say the things I said.” Yuta then opens eyes and Taeyong stops himself from taking a step back. His gaze is too piercing, too vulnerable and raw. </p>
<p>Instead he cradles Yuta’s cheek lightly. </p>
<p>“I got the makeup off.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Yuta says. Taeyong doesn’t remove his hand and neither does Yuta move away. </p>
<p>“You make a good Frankenstein,” Taeyong says. </p>
<p>Yuta softens. “You can be honest and say I look ridiculous.”</p>
<p>Taeyong shakes his head, “You always look good to me.”</p>
<p>Yuta slumps against the wall, “You always say stuff like this and then expect me not to feel anything for you.”</p>
<p>Taeyong almost stammers. He feels heat creep up his face right from his neck up to his ears. “You can’t possible think this doesn’t go both ways,” he says, but Yuta’s already dozing off. </p>
<p>Taeyong huffs out a laugh. Yuta looks so serene like this, long eyelashes touching his cheeks and lips nearly parted. His hair falls over his eyes. It’s grown long over the months and Taeyong wishes Yuta would never cut it. Looking at him, Taeyong’s heartbeat quickens against his will. </p>
<p>He washes his hands and feels a sudden burn in his hand. Through the water he sees ink on the inside of his wrist. Dark, black ink with Yuta’s name on it. Taeyong touches it softly. It tingles a bit but it doesn’t hurt. In all honesty, it feels alleviating. It’s like clarity to Taeyong’s thoughts: he finally let himself be open about his feelings and so his soulmate marks reflects them. Strong and unwavering. There’s no need to suppress them anymore since Yuta feels the same way. </p>
<p>He now understands why people freak out when they find out when they find out who they’re soulmates are. Doyoung was distraught at first and Taeyong honestly feels the same. He was stupid to think he could possibly ignore Yuta’s name written on his wrist. He really can’t. It’s heavy, it has a weight. Unlike Mr. Park’s name, Yuta’s tickles pleasantly when touched. It makes Taeyong readers his past opinions about everything, really. Fate might have a point. If Yuta isn’t his soulmate, then who else might it possibly be?</p>
<p>Taeyong lets out a big exhale in both excitement and exhaustion. Today was a long day. He considers waking Yuta up to break the news to him. </p>
<p>“Yuta,” he says quietly. He brushes Yuta’s bangs away from his eyes but gets no response. He tires shaking Yuta a little, and Yuta grumbles something incoherent. Taeyong laughs a little and drags him out of the bathroom. When Yuta starts snoring softly Taeyong decides to tell him everything tomorrow. He tucks Yuta to bed and mentally prepares himself for the sun to rise. He stares at his left wrist for many minutes, still in disbelief and awe, and only after sending Doyoung a photo of his hand does he go to sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The new following day proves to be a rollercoaster. Taeyong wakes up to Doyoung bombarding his notifications with messages, which Taeyong ignores. Realizing he was ignored, Doyoung persistently starts calling him. Taeyong has no choice but to give in and endure the <i>I told you so</i> Doyoung throws his way.</p>
<p>After ending the call Taeyong moves to prepare himself breakfast. He makes one for Yuta too, just in case he miraculously wakes up early and not hungover. Unfortunately, Yuta sleeps for the whole day and does indeed wakes up hungover and with a headache, and as a responsible friend Taeyong is by his side to give him water and migraine pills. </p>
<p>“Did I do anything stupid last night?” Yuta asks, lying on his bed. </p>
<p>Stupid is kind of a broad term. Taeyong bites on his bottom lip, afraid Yuta regrets everything he did yesterday, or even worse, doesn’t remember anything. “Do you not remember?” </p>
<p>“I remember almost everything,” Yuta says, scooting over so Taeyong can sit on the edge of his bed. Taeyong feels anxiety pooling in his stomach as he sits down and looks at Yuta’s face. </p>
<p>“Sorry if I made things awkward between us,” Yuta continues, “but you would have found out about the whole soulmate thing sooner or later.”</p>
<p>“I know, thank you for telling me,” Taeyong replies, fiddling with his fingers. He glances at his left wrist briefly.</p>
<p>“You know, you didn’t give me an answer yesterday,” Yuta says.</p>
<p>“To what?”</p>
<p>“I asked you if you like me. At the bus stop.”</p>
<p>“Ah.” Taeyong says softly, “Actually, you fell asleep before I could show you something. I tried to wake you up but you didn’t budge.”</p>
<p>Yuta sits up. “What is it?”</p>
<p>Taeyong takes a deep breath and shows him his left arm. Yuta’s eyes widen at the sight.  </p>
<p>His eyes dart between Taeyong’s face and arm. “Are you fucking with me?”</p>
<p>“No,” Taeyong says, “I just got it yesterday, after you passed out. Is that a good enough answer for you?” </p>
<p>Yuta nods. “Yeah.” Then asks, “How is it so dark already?” </p>
<p>Taeyong rubs his other hand behind his neck, embarrassed, “I stopped suppressing my feelings, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Now why would you even do that?” Yuta asks, breaking out into a laugh.</p>
<p>“I was scared of ruining the friendship we had,” Taeyong explains. “I know it’s silly.”</p>
<p>Yuta shakes his head. “It’s not silly at all. I get that. At first I was, too, but I realized us being friends and me liking you could coexist.”</p>
<p>He takes Taeyong’s wrist and holds it gently, almost as if in disbelief. “I really can’t believe this,” Yuta murmurs, “I thought you didn’t feel the same way.” He presses a kiss to the soulmate mark and it slowly starts glowing golden. </p>
<p>The glow of the mark colours the edges of Yuta’s face in amber, alike to a summer sunrise and Taeyong feels shivers. It’s such an ethereal sight. His soulmate mark is pulsing and Yuta’s lips on it make it burn even more. </p>
<p>Yuta looks at his own soulmate mark. It reflects the same shade of gold. Taeyong’s name on it looks so otherworldly. Taeyong leans into his side to get a better look. </p>
<p>“Pretty, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Taeyong exhales, “almost surreal.”</p>
<p>Yuta then grins and pulls Taeyong down by the front of his shirt as he falls back on the bed. Taeyong ends up on top of him. He puts his arms on the sides of Yuta’s head to steady himself and not fall over. </p>
<p>“Taeyong,” Yuta says, “if I don’t kiss you right this instant I will burst.” </p>
<p>“What are you waiting for, then?”</p>
<p>Yuta snakes a hand around Taeyong’s neck and pulls him closer. He doesn’t know who leans in first, their lips seem to meet somewhere halfway. Taeyong has heard many times what it feels like to kiss your soulmate but he always thought they were exaggerations. He thought wrong. Just a simple press of Yuta’s lips on his is melting him entirely. It’s warm and it’s overwhelming in the best possible way. </p>
<p>Taeyong straddles Yuta’s hips and cups his cheeks with both hands. He leans down to kiss him deeper. Yuta catches his bottom lip in between his teeth and bites on it lightly. Taeyong feels hot all over, not only his wrist pulsating but all of his body and mind. </p>
<p>He tentatively prods his tongue into Yuta’s mouth. Yuta tastes like mint toothpaste and his uncombed hair keeps getting in the way and Taeyong loves him. </p>
<p>At some point it becomes impossible to kiss properly because Yuta starts smiling, and Taeyong can’t help but mirror it. Yuta knocks their foreheads together, circles his hands over Taeyong’s waist into a tight hug. </p>
<p>He rolls them over so they’re lying side by side and pecks his cheek and again and again. Taeyong squirms but he welcomes the affections, heart beating fast.</p>
<p>For one year has Taeyong been friends with Yuta, for another half a year was he tiptoeing around him under the mask of friendship. If Taeyong would had known that he would end up in Yuta’s arms like this he would’ve sent his worries to hell from the very beginning. He buries his face into the crook of Yuta’s neck, melts into his embrace. It’s the most comfortable he’s ever been, the most happiest. </p>
<p>He feels Yuta stroke his hair tenderly. It’s afternoon, or maybe evening already, maybe nighttime. Taeyong doesn’t really care. He presses Yuta close to him and basks in the warmth of his body. </p>
<p>“Let’s eat,” Yuta says after a while. “I’m starving.”</p>
<p>Taeyong pulls away and laughs. It’s so like Yuta to say something random during a serious moment, turning something intimate into something light and easy.</p>
<p>Yeah. Taeyong doesn’t know why he was so worried. Nothing has changed between them, nothing has gotten more complicated. It’s still easy, it’s still light, maybe even more so since Taeyong doesn’t have to hold himself back anymore from being more touchy, more affectionate. </p>
<p>“Okay,” Taeyong smiles, giving Yuta another kiss. “Take out?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>at first the title was time after time but i changed it T__T</p></blockquote></div></div>
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